


Big Rush

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: DBH: CRIMINAL AU [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Apparently I'm Writing Another Series, Drug Dealer Gavin Reed, Enforcer Nines, Gavin Is A Compulsive Liar, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mafia AU, Pre-Relationship, What Have I Done, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 19:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: NOVEMBER 2029Gavin doesn't have great impulse control, and that gets him in trouble.





	Big Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I'm still working on You Worry Me, and this shouldn't affect updates. 
> 
> Also, if you're triggered easily, you should probably avoid this series as a whole, because it's gonna get dark, and pretty fucking questionable during some parts. It's a mob AU. Shit will get real. 
> 
> It's going to be posted as one-shots. They will all be dated, and in the same narrative, but not necessarily posted in chronological order, so just keep an eye on that. This whole thing is an experiment, so let's go. 
> 
> One more thing, this was very loosely inspired by Luscious Whiteflame over on Instagram. Did you guys see the mafia AU picture? Fucking ruined my writing schedule is what it did (but their DBH fanart gives me life, and if you haven't seen it, just fucking leave this and go search them right now, you're welcome in advance.) That said, when I say loosely... look, when you start reading this mess you will probably be like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON. Which, okay, fair. There are a LOT of changes- even for an AU. Some androids are human in this, some are still androids. It's a fucking mess, guys. If anything gets confusing AF, please shoot me a message, and I'll get back to you.

NOVEMBER 2029  
  
Everyone in the criminal underbelly of Detroit knew that there were three crime families who ran it, just like those with their pulse on that sort of things knew where the lines were. And at twenty-seven, Gavin knew the heartbeat of the city, he also knew how colossally he just fucked up. He’d been only fourteen when he’d been jumped into the Silver Snakes, it had disbanded over the years- most of the people he knew were either in prison or six feet under. He wasn’t technically in a gang anymore, there weren’t enough of them on this side of the grave, but he knew better than to come to this part of town. He told himself that his gang tats were covered, that no one would know, no one would question him.  
  
The worst of it was, it wasn’t gangs fighting over territory. That was shit he could handle. That was his childhood and adolescence. Three mafia families had come in fighting for Detroit- Anderson, Andronikov, and Stern. And what had he done? He adjusted the heavy bag on his shoulder. He’d taken a bag from what had clearly been a drop, walked away fast enough to eat up space, but not so fast as to look like he was running away. He glanced over his shoulder, he couldn’t see anyone following.  
  
He tucked into the nearest alley, unzipped the bag. Drugs; red ice mostly, a bit of cocaine, some heroin. No weed, this wasn’t some little dealer. He pulled out a baggy of cocaine, stared at the white powder, shoved it into his pocket because fuck it, he was weak. He did a quick mental tally of what was in the bag, then did the math again. That could clear his debt, get him something better than that shit hole he’d been living in. It isn’t like when he was dealing as a teenager, he isn’t a part of anything anymore, there wouldn’t be anyone taking a massive cut out of his profits, and he didn’t pay for the product- he’d fucking stolen it. Drugs, that meant; “Anderson’s, or Andronikov?”    
  
He heard the heavy click of the hammer on a revolver being pulled, and closed his eyes.  
  
“Anderson,” the man behind him said. “And you are either incredibly desperate, or incredibly stupid.”  
  
“Incredibly opportunistic,” Gavin replied. He’d never been able to hold his tongue, and even with a gun held to the back of his head, he wasn’t about to start now.  
  
A huff of breath that might have been a laugh- or annoyance. “You’ve got balls. I’ll give you that.” A long pause. “You a cop?”  
  
Gavin couldn’t stop the snort. “Fuck no.”  
  
“Who do you work for?”  
  
“No one.”  
  
The barrel of the gun pressed directly against the back of his head. “Don’t fuck with me.”  
  
“I’m not! I used to be with the Silver Snakes,” he admitted, knowing it might be the difference between walking out of this alley or having his brain matter spilled over the dirty pavement. “But that gang hasn’t been active in like five years.”  
  
“And you just happened to find a drop spot?”  
  
“It was a coincidence, I swear. I saw the drop, okay, I recognized it as a drop! I figured there would be a few minutes to get the goods and get out.”  
  
“Desperate. Desperate, and stupid,” the man decided.  
  
Gavin swallowed hard. “If you’re going to do it, just fucking do it.”  
  
“Silver Snakes were small time,” the man said, almost conversational. “Mostly drug dealing. Let’s see your ink.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
The gun pressed harder against his skull.    
  
Gavin took that as a yes. He kept his hands half raised as he slowly stood and turned around. Of course he’d been having a gun pointed at him by a walking wet dream. Tall, dark hair, glaring grey-blue eyes, lips in a severe line, dressed head to toe in black. He slowly lowered his hand to his shirt, not wanting the man to think he was going for a gun. He tugged his shirt up to display the grey and black snake that twisted around a thorned rose, disappearing under his jeans. A nod from the man and Gavin dropped his shirt.  
  
“Name?”  
  
“Tom,” Gavin lied immediately. Lying at this stage in his life came more naturally than the truth.  
  
The man surged forward, and the gun was pressed right between his eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me again, this is your last chance.”  
  
“Gavin, Gavin Reed.”  
  
At this, the man backed off a step. He looked from Gavin, to the bag of drugs, then smirked. “Gavin, you are going to sell that entire bag of drugs for me. You’re not getting a cut. If you fuck me over on this, I will hunt you down-”  
  
“And kill me,” because even while being threatened, apparently he doesn’t know when to shut up.  
  
“Not first,” the man replied, tucking his gun away, clearly not seeing Gavin as any kind of threat. “I’ll kill anyone who’s ever mattered to you. If that means looking up some girl you had a crush on in the fourth grade, I will. I’ll kill your fucking cat. Don’t fuck with me, Gavin. You have one week.”  
  
“One week, to move all that product?” Gavin stared at the bag. It had been a long time since he’d been dealing drugs, it wasn’t like he had regulars to fall back on.  
  
“One week. At current street value, and don’t forget to pay for what you pocketed. Or you can save yourself a step and I’ll let you eat a bullet here. I won’t even go after your cat.”  
  
“I never said I had a cat.”  
  
“Your sweater is covered in cat hair.”  
  
“Could be a dog-”  
  
“I’m reconsidering killing you.”  
  
“I’ll do it, I don’t know why you’re letting me, but I’ll do it.”  
  
“I know why I’m doing it, and that is all that matters.” He turned on his heel. “Don’t fuck it up.”  
  
“What is your name,” Gavin asked before the man could get too far. “How am I supposed to find you when I have the money?”  
  
“I’ll find you. And you can call me Nines.”  
  
Gavin watched until Nines disappeared from the mouth of the alley, then crouched by the bag of drugs. “What the fuck have I stepped in this time?”  
  



End file.
